Mystical Words: A Short Story Collection

Fantasy: The Secrets Of Emmattagon

23 Sylber, Saturdon

Dear Diary,

This morning, Ma said we were going on a trip to the Arctic Circle with my three cousins to skyde. I tried skyding before and I was the last. Flying down a mountain and raking the ice with one's wing talons is really hard! Skyding is your typical high-adrenaline sport adored by your average dragon, as one could show off their prowess at controlling one's wing talons to create exotic patterns on the ice. Most are obsessed with the sport, all except for me.

I hung about awkwardly, while the rest of the clan were showing off their talents at creating drawings, patterns, and whatnot. Big cousin Gertrude skyded over to me and poked me with a claw while twirling teasingly. "You should've stayed home, Emmatt! No one comes to the Arctic Circle to be a party pooper." I snorted. Like I had a choice.

Thankfully, Uncle Maximus called us to The SnoWings, a skyding hotel, and invited us to some roast moose and fried otter. Of course, this lightened my mood, as fried otter is a delicacy uncommon in the land of the Wings Of The East clan. I was nervous when Pa came over as I wolfed down my fried otter and invited us to a skyding competition hosted by The SnoWings. Surely I could be excluded from this?

But I could not. Ma wanted all of us to join so we could increase our chances of winning. I still refused, but when I saw the disappointment on Ma's face, what could I do?

As usual, Warrick, Pa, and Gertrude came in top. And me? I got disqualified in the first round. Dragonnit!

Emmatt

25 Sylber, Mondon

Dear Diary,

During lunch, I took out my lunch box and opened it. Roast ox from McDuck's! I quickly tore off a piece and chewed it. Mmm. It's not every day that I can eat it, after all. I also took out a factbook, The Great Reigns: Your Guide to the Greatest Dragons, for my upcoming project and started revising the history of Noah Snarby the Third.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, two dragons, a white and a blue one, gestured towards me, whispering to each other. As they were out of earshot, I didn't catch a word of their conversation. Then, the blue dragon strode over to me. I quickly averted my eyes to my timeline of Noah Snarby the Third's reign and pretended not to notice the dragon.

"Hey, you. Come and join ma team," the blue dragon demanded.

"Team for what?" I replied, flipping the page of the textbook.

"Flyball." I shifted my gaze for a second, only to see the blue dragon flexing his abs, obviously trying to convince me to join. But flyball's hard. You have to pass a ball around and score by putting it through one of five hoops placed around the arena, while dodging the opposing team, all without the ball hitting the ground. I had heard the training was so harsh players complain of backaches within five minutes. Some training.

So, of course, "Sorry mate, but no thanks," I declined politely. 

However, to my surprise, the blue dragon burst out laughing and told his friend, "See, I told you he would say no!"

"Dude, look at him! Studying what's-his-name's history during lunch! What a nerd!" the white dragon replied, hooting with laughter.

I had a lot of experience dealing with their type, so I tore off a chunk of ox meat and ignored them. "Everyone, look! Emmattagon from Wings of The East clan is a nerd! Hah!" To my disappointment, several dragons chuckled along, while several gave me pitiful looks but did nothing.

"Jormungand and Kai from Claws of The North clan. Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" I heard a female dragon say coolly. Turning my head, I saw Avonlea from Aqua Wings clan, a medium-sized blue dragon, striding up to the two bullies, who scoffed, but they seemed to shrink back ever so slightly.